#I have drafted an email to everyone to send out on wednesday saying we’ve set a meeting time and date based on the responses to the form

[horsemage]

The timestamps really add something to this email chain tbh

Look, I totally get being too swamped with work to not get to an email immediately but I don’t know how many more “looping everyone in on this���s and “just following up on this”s and “please fill out this when2meet ASAP”s i got left in me man

[everybodyscupoftea]

chemistry

isaac lahey x reader

isaac needs help in chemistry and you need help in english - the beginning

this is for isaac anon and the few people that wanted this. i’m just dabbling here, so let me know if you guys want more! (i did quite a bit of Research for this and i have ideas)

also let me know, i left it vague, but if i expand i’m probably going to add in scott, stiles, allison, and lydia. would you guys like to keep it supernatural or do full au where they’re just normal college students?

You noticed the boy in your Intro to Academic Writing course, but you didn’t really focus on him, mostly due to freshman year stress, until he sat down next to you in General Chemistry. Stepping into the classroom you’d felt at ease, science was your jam, but the really cute boy put you back on edge. You felt hyperaware of him, his scent, kind of cinnamon-y, fall-esque.

He tapped his fingers on his notebook, and you couldn’t help but notice he wrote in green pen. You glanced every so often to see him doodling in the corner of the page instead of taking notes on the intro lesson on the scientific method that your professor was doing.

The boy rested his chin on his hand and his fingers went from tapping on the notebook to his jaw and you shook your head, trying to focus back on the professor who was talking about your lab groups.

“The people at your table are in your group. Lab is on Wednesday nights, I won’t be the instructor, you’ll have a TA, but you can email me or come to my office hours if you have any questions about what’s going on. I’ll see you all on Thursday.”

You started to pack your stuff and the boy turned to you with a crooked grin, “I’m Isaac.”

Shaking his hand, you introduced yourself and he stood, waiting for you to finish packing your stuff. You zipped your booksack, “You’re in my English class, right?” you asked, faking as if you didn’t notice him as soon as you stepped into the door.

He nodded, “Yeah, with Dr. Terranova.”

“He seems,” you trailed off, looking for the right word, “interesting.”

Isaac grinned, “You mean overwhelmingly picky for an English 101 professor?”

“That’s a great way to put it,” you told him, laughing.

The two of you walked out the door and down the hall together. Isaac shifted his booksack on his shoulders a little and asked, “Do you have any more classes today?”

“Calculus,” you told him and he grimaced.

“Fuck that.”

“You?”

He nodded, “Spanish.”

Unfortunately for you, the buildings were on opposite ends of campus, so you paused just outside the door to the chemistry building. Isaac paused too and smiled, “See you tomorrow night?”

“See you tomorrow, Isaac.”

-

Your lab group was made up of two boys and two girls. Isaac, Andrew, Abigail, and you. Out of the group, you were the only STEM major, and the only one who actually liked chemistry. Isaac patted your shoulder, “Well, that officially makes you team captain then.”

“Thank god,” Abigail added, “I’m an advertising major, my brain noped out of the sciences years ago.”

The other guy, Andrew, said, “I took Chem 2 in high school and didn’t pass the AP exam, chemistry and I have beef.”

You snorted and said, “Cool, well, I’ll try and lead us to the promised land.” They seemed to like that.

-

Your group was really smart, everyone was picking up the labs really easily and you were thrilled, especially when the teacher stood in front of the class after the first test review. She clapped her hands once, “Okay, the lab group with the highest combined test average gets five bonus points added to their test scores. This is me trying to get you guys familiar with study groups, especially if you’re going to be in STEM, which I know some of you are. Study groups got me through school.”

Unfortunately, everyone in your lab group already had stuff going on, so you couldn’t study with them. Fortunately, the test was on intro stuff like the scientific method, conversions, and balancing equations, and your group hadn’t had any issues in any of the lab work, so you weren’t worried.

But when you got the test back, you realized, maybe you should’ve been. Isaac got his handed back first and actually laughed when he looked at the grade. Before you could ask, the professor set yours down on the desk and you started flipping through it, frowning at the little points you’d had taken off for careless mistakes.

“Fuck,” you muttered, “should’ve gotten at least a 97.”

“Wow, can’t believe you fucked it up for the whole group,” Isaac sarcastically responded, nudging you with his elbow, before sliding his test on top of yours. He nudged you again, “As you can see, I’m carrying the team,” and he motioned toward the D written in bright red at the top of his paper.

Your mouth dropped open and you picked the test up, flipping through to see what he’d missed. Eyebrows furrowed, you looked over at him, “You should tell her you accidentally skipped the back page.”

“Oh, it wasn’t an accident, I just didn’t know how to do it.”

“Well,” you stuttered, “it was the same stuff we did in the last lab activity.”

Isaac nodded, “Yes it is, and I didn’t understand it then either.”

“I thought,” you paused, mind racing, “I thought we all did?”

He grinned at you, “Some of us aren’t science brains, my friend.”

“What are you?” you asked as the class started to pack up.

With a soft smile, he threw his booksack over his shoulder, “I’m a literature major.”

-

You didn’t mean to think about it as much as you did, but when 2 a.m. rolled around and you were at your most impulsive you couldn’t stop yourself from sending out a text.

Hey, do you maybe want to meet up and study sometime?

After hitting send you could’ve slammed your head into a wall. You locked your phone and put your head in your hands, “God damnit.” And then your phone dinged.

I’d love that, love to have a STEM genius in my corner.

Your cheeks heated as you read it and your mind raced with your heart. It was beating harder and part of you couldn’t even believe he’d said yes. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you responded.

Idk about genius but I’m not half bad at chem

He responded, even faster than the first time and you grinned, unable to stop it from overtaking your face.

I may not know much about the scientific method or whatever, but all evidence suggests otherwise, genius

-

The next test wasn’t for a few weeks, but Isaac wanted to start studying earlier. He suggested meeting at a coffee shop called The Beanery. Coffee shops weren’t really your jam, you liked the silence of the fourth floor of the library. Go early, get a table, put in head phones, and go to work. But, you were open to try Isaac’s suggestion.

It was brightly lit when you walked in, and he was already there, at a table in the corner, laptop out. Books were spread across the tabletop, and he already had two empty mugs on the table in front of him, leg bouncing as he aimlessly chewed on a pen.

Shaking yourself out of staring, you walked to the counter to order. Isaac smiled up at you when you made it to the table with your coffee.

“Welcome,” he told you, moving some of his books out of the way. Sitting up straighter, Isaac glanced around, “What do you think about this place?”

“It’s nice, definitely a change of pace from my norm.”

“Where’s that then?”

“Library, fourth floor.”

“Quiet up there, huh?”

“Yeah, but I listen to some music for background.”

“I like coffee shops,” Isaac said, closing his laptop, “the vibes are nice and my clothes always smell like coffee afterward which is a fun bonus.”

At his comment, you looked down at his clothes. You were a little surprised to see that he was dressed just like during the week: jeans, a nicer t-shirt, and a cardigan. You’d wondered, deep down, if he dressed nicer for class, but it didn’t seem the case. Isaac cleared his throat and your eyes snapped to his face, ears burning when you saw him staring at you in amusement.

Coughing quietly, you reached for your booksack, “So, chemistry. Do you understand what we’ve been going over?”

“I know they’re called Bohr models but I don’t know anything else about them.”

“Right, so,” you paused a minute, trying to figure out where to start, “it’s a way to draw an atom and it’s kind of like a planet.”

Isaac leaned forward through your explanation, resting most of his weight on his elbows, and tapped the green pen against his lower lip. Every so often he’d ask a question, shift a little and write something down in his notebook by whatever he’d scribbled in class. His questions were shockingly insightful, and you eagerly answered them all.

By the time you’d gotten through the basics of thermodynamics, he’d added a whole page of notes, and you could tell he was starting to lose interest. Shutting your notebook, you told him, earnestly, “I hope this helped a little.”

“I promise,” he looked you straight in the eye, “it makes sense. This all looked like a foreign language before we met up.”

“Good,” you nodded, “this is my jam.”

“Keep on spreading it,” he joked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well,” you admitted, “you may not be good at chem but you’d kick my ass into next week in English.”

“How’s your paper going?” Isaac asked, leaning back and crossing his arms, looking genuinely interested.

“It’s…going.”

He snorted, “That doesn’t sound promising.”

“Yeah neither does my thesis.”

“Do you have your laptop?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me have a look,” he suggested.

Pulling up the word doc, you passed your laptop over, staring down at your hands, twiddling your thumbs, a little nervously, as he read through your rough draft.

“What did Dr. Terranova have to say in your conference?” he asked, pushing your laptop away.

You sighed, “He was less than complimentary.”

Isaac laughed, “It’s not that bad, but it could use some polishing. I can help of course.”

Relief washed over you and you felt a weight off your shoulders, “That would be incredible actually.”

“There, now we’re even. You tutor me in chemistry and I’ll make sure you pass English, starting with this rough, and emphasis on rough, draft.”

Reaching across the table, you shoved at his hand, “Be gentle.”

“I’m going to get another chai,” he said, standing to stretch a bit, “and you pick out what sentence exactly you think is your thesis. We’ll start there.”

Biting your lip to conceal a grin, you nodded, waking your laptop back up.

[placingglaciers]

A Price to Pay

Title: A Price to Pay

Genre: AU, Fluff, Getting Together

Word Count: 8, 278

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol intoxication

Description: In which Phil has a massive cliché crush on his writing tutor, the most popular guy at college, and gets invited to one of his legendary parties. One requirement though: Phil needs a plus one.

Author’s Note: This has been pushed off for a while! (Please remember that this is fiction.)

“You still need to come up with some transitional expressions to help make your paragraph smoother,” his writing tutor remarked, his red pen in his hand, of which he had no restraint on using with Philip’s essay papers. “We’ve been over this.”

               If it wasn’t obvious before, then let it be known now that Philip was far more interested in the smoothness of his tutor’s lips rather than the smoothness of his stupid paragraph. His Wednesday afternoon tutoring session only had fifteen minutes remaining. The mere progress they made was on the first page, the following four would have to be reviewed in a later session, of which Philip wasn’t too sad about, of course.  Having the most gorgeous boy in school be your unnecessary writing tutor was rather distracting—unnecessary because Philip was an English student, he could write transitional expressions in his sleep if he really wanted to. He admits that having a crush on this boy and tracking him down to this extent was a bit juvenile, but his college days were being numbered and being single during all of them was not ideal. So if playing dumb for a little while would help him get closer to the guy, then so be it.

               Philip’s eyes glanced down at the red scribbles that practically vandalized his precious essay and back up into those stunning blue eyes. “Um, right, what’s a transitional expression again?”

               You could tell he was being very patient with him as he bit the inside of his cheek and began drumming his pen on the wooden dining hall table. “It’s a sentence variety strategy,” he slowly explained. “You want your writing to sound more creative and poetic, don’t you? It keeps it from sounding monotonous.”

               Philip nodded his head in false understanding. “Oh, right, I think my professor gave us a handout on it during class today…” He continued to shuffle through his quite organized creative non-fiction writing binder. He knew exactly where the paper was, but he was hoping that by stalling, his tutor would lose patience and give him all the answers. Philip knew all the right buttons to push to get his way. This was rather fun, actually.

               “Well, we could start with this sentence here,” his tutor pointed to one of the sentences. “Instead of saying: ‘I must say that people who don’t like wearing pajamas are wrong,” you could say: ‘However, although some people don’t prefer wearing pajamas, they’re ignoring the facts of the multiple benefits of them.’”

               Philip tried his hardest not to cringe in front of him. Two transitional expressions in one sentence? And ending with a prepositional phrase? Never mind the fact that he still kept the contractions in his so-called “revision.” Thank God Philip wasn’t there for actual help. He pretended to think about that awful “sentence” for a few more seconds before coming up with a stupid question. “Yeah, but doesn’t that make the sentence longer?”

               “Yes, but that’s what you need.” He annoyingly pointed out to the paragraph with his pen again. “You have way too many short sentences here. This is why I said you need sentence variety.”

               For some reason, Philip was feeling highly annoyed. He already finished his final draft yesterday. This was just a way for them to keep occupied. But he really hated being told what to do by a Journalism student, who was completely different from an English student in his opinion. All his tutor wanted to do was report on football games. How difficult could that be? Philip had to actually work hard to gain an audience that wouldn’t be simply handed to him. But then again, he knew not one rule about football, so perhaps he should stay in his own lane. He checked the time on his watch. He was right. Unfortunately, he could only tolerate his tutor for an hour or two at a time and it was getting towards the end of the session. It was almost five o’clock; he was going to be late.

               “I think we’re at a stopping point,” his tutor mentioned once he saw Philip check his watch. He began packing his evil red pen and took a drink from his strawberry flavored water. He then said hello to a few passing people.

               Philip began packing his writing binder and essay papers slowly in case they wanted to exchange any heartfelt farewells to each other.

               “Say, Phil?” his tutor suddenly asked him.

               Philip looked up from his book bag and into those dazzling blue eyes again. “Yeah?”

               “I know I’ve only known you for half the semester, but letting a stranger review your personal writing takes a lot go guts,” he began.

               Philip wasn’t sure where this was going. He admits he poured a lot of personal stories into his essays that were difficult to expose to the public, but that only allowed him to get closer to him. And that was the very point to all of this.

               “I mean, writing a whole essay glorifying pajamas?” he continued. “That’s pretty cool.” He put his hand on his toned chest, “I personally sleep naked, but I tried to relate.”

               Philip desperately tried to get that image out of his mind. Naked? He hadn’t tried that before, but he’s willing to take up the challenge, especially with him.

               “You’re a good writer, Phil,” he said earnestly, leaning in on the table.

               Philip allowed himself to blush. “All thanks to you, of course.”

               He smiled at him. “Hey, you know I have that party coming up on Friday, right?”

               Although Philip should be happy he mentioned it, he couldn’t help but feel dread. He hated parties. The loud music, the annoying people, the alcohol, the drama…he hated it all. After being passed out drunk, waking up on a moist trampoline with half his clothes on at one of his old classmate’s houses a couple years ago, he promised himself he would avoid parties at all costs. But what should he do now? Turn down this exclusive invitation to one of the most legendary parties of the year by the host himself?

               “Uh, yeah, of course,” Philip failed to sound enthusiastic.

               “You’re always welcome,” his tutor said, getting up from his chair. “But of course, you need a plus one.”

               “P-plus one?” Philip asked without thinking.

               “Yeah, the goal is to get as many people there as possible,” he explained, casually putting one of his backpack straps over his large shoulder. “If no one brings a plus one, the party would be pretty lame.”

               Philip let out a fake chuckle. “Right, I’ll just go with you then.”

               “What, no! I’m the host, remember?”

               Philip blushed as embarrassment rushed through his lanky body. What was he going to do now? He couldn’t simply ask all his friends; he barely had any to begin with. And sending a campus-wide email would basically guarantee failure (and hatred). This would have to be solved a lot faster than what he was capable of doing.

               “I’ll see you tomorrow?” his tutor asked right as he turned to leave.

               Philip nodded his head slightly and smiled. He wasn’t expecting his tutor to give him this type of work. However, he had no other option but to figure it out at a later time. He was going to be late, after all.

               If there was one thing Philip was allowed to be proud of, it would be his unofficial board game club. The designated location was in the basement of the library, a bit symbolic as the club was metaphorically underground as well. Philip was denied by the student activities office three years ago for his club proposition, as apparently it didn’t “reflect” on student values. So rather than giving up, he went on with it anyway despite no financial support, campus support, or, really, student body support. Board games were one of his passions; all he wanted to do was create a space for other fellow “gamers” to share their passions together. The club had only less than ten people in it, which was their limit. Any more, and they’ll risk initiating a dirty rat, and the last thing they wanted to do was justify a lame board game club to the Dean.

               Philip entered the library’s small basement lounge breathlessly after he rushed his way across campus. Everyone was there, all five of them (excluding himself). He was bad at names, so he only knew a few of them personally. They were at the small snack table, digging in to some chips and candy, otherwise known as fuel for a long night of board games. This week, they were playing Yahtzee, a game Philip didn’t particularly care for, but it won out of majority vote. He dumped his heavy book bag on the floor with the others and joined everyone at the snack table.

               “Phil! You look spent!” the vice president exclaimed. “Tutoring session went well, I suppose?”

               “It’s not what it looks like,” Philip reassured him, reaching for a handful of bright orange nacho cheese flavored Doritos. “I rushed over so I wouldn’t be late.”

               “Well you already failed at that,” one of the members made sure to tell him as she filled her Styrofoam cup with cheap fruit punch.

               “Wonder what else you’ll fail at tonight,” another member added, sitting at the wooden round table that was in the middle of the dimly lit room.

               Philip rolled his eyes, already enjoying the competitive atmosphere in the room. “You guys know I’m bad at dice games!”

               As everyone took their seats in their own unique chairs (campus furniture barely comes in complete sets), Philip filled his snack plate with more Doritos and quickly joined the others. He was left with the orange leather chair, of which he was certain it hadn’t been cleaned since the seventies. He sat in between the vice president and a brown-haired boy of which he forgot the name of as he was the newest member.

               “Alright, the meeting has commenced!” the president announced excitedly. “Looks like everyone is here, so that is great. Thanks to those of you who donated tonight’s snacks. Though you may not be reimbursed with money, I hope tonight’s fun will be a sufficient payback.”

               Everyone around the table rolled their eyes, but laughed anyways.

               “For tonight’s agenda, we will cover our plans for the next meeting and get started with the game!” the president continued enthusiastically. “I say we’d be done at around nine? Ten?”

               Up to five hours of constant dice rattling? Philip was sure he’ll end the night with an intense migraine.

               “According to the club’s survey,” the vice president chimed in, holding a small piece of paper in his hands, “there is yet another tie between Scrabble and Clue. Therefore, according to the unofficial rules, there must be a coin toss. Would anyone like to volunteer?” He looked around the room eagerly.

               No one made the effort to retrieve any coin, because perhaps there wasn’t one there to begin with.

               “Alright, fine,” the vice president sighed and shoved his hand in his back pocket. “I know college kids are poor, but come on.” He placed the coin in his hands. “Heads for Scrabble, tails for Clue. Now, we all know I don’t know how to do this correctly, so I’ll just throw it against the wall.”

               The coin flew through the air and clinked against the wall and then on the vinyl tiled floor. The brown haired boy that sat next to Philip looked behind and announced, “Tails!”

               Philip crossed his arms and pouted. He liked Clue, but he was much better at Scrabble. Much to his dismay, most of the table cheered. The only way for him to feel better about this was if he was guaranteed to be Professor Plum, but the chances of that were slim.

               “Its sick how most of you guys choose murder over a word game,” Philip bitterly pointed out.

               “Words will always exist, but dead bodies will not,” the president wisely replied.

               One of the members grabbed the Yahtzee box and opened it before everyone.

               “Rules are simple: I’m sure you all know how it works, just roll the dice and use your basic math skills,” the president briefly explained as he tore off three score sheets. “There will be three teams to make it more fun,” he then pointed to different groups. “We’ll have the Girl Team, the President Team, and the, uh, Dan and Phil Team.”

               “Uh, excuse me?” One of the girls retorted. “Why must our team be defined as our gender?”

               The president rubbed his face tiredly, “Oh my God,” he muttered quietly. “Okay, just be whatever team you want to be.”

               “Alright, then, we’ll be the Queen Team,” the other girl confidently decided.

               Philip wasn’t sure if that was any better than the first, but he rather not interfere. He had more problems to deal with. Not only did he just learn his neighbor’s name for the first time, but he also had to be paired with him. From what he could recall, all Daniel was good at was Outburst, which was admirable, but not very helpful in this situation.

               “So, are you good at rolling or at math?” Daniel whispered in his ear.

               “Neither,” Philip replied quietly, writing both of their names on the score sheet. “I’ll just be here for moral support.”

               “Moral support?” Daniel whisper-shouted back. “You can’t expect me to be an expert at the both of them!”

               “Wait, you actually expect us to win?” Philip asked while the “Queen Team” rolled. “The girls cheat and the other two never let anything go. It’s exhausting.” He watched as the girls scored a full house. He then whispered in Daniel’s ear, “I think we should just float for a while before we make any waves.”

               “Well too bad, you’re rolling with the tide,” Daniel handed him the dice-filled blue cup that probably had been touched by way too many people by this point.

               Philip’s stomach tightened as he loudly shook the dice in the cup. He then threw them out on the table, each of them landing their own way. There were a lot of different black dots looking back at him, and he wasn’t sure what to do about that. He looked up at the rest of the table and they looked at him with a glimmer of disbelief in their eyes. He, too, knew what this meant. It just felt too unreal to accept it yet.

               “Phil!” Daniel exclaimed and shook his shoulders excitedly.

               A smile creeped across Philip’s face, but he kept silent.

               “Man! And it’s the first one of the night!” the vice president commented, with a tad bit of jealousy.

               Philip turned his chin up proudly as he handed the dice to the President Team. “Yeah? What are you gonna do about that?”

               The president snatched the cup from his hands and offered him a nasty look. “Shove all five of these dice up your behind until you’re constipated for a week!”

               “I’d like to see you try!” Philip yelled back, almost rising from his seat from rage.

               The game did end up continuing until ten, but Philip didn’t care. Daniel and he were rightfully in second place, with the so-called “Queens” winning. There was a long argument afterwards on the speculation of cheating, but was interrupted by one of the late-working librarians. Once they all left, the fall night air caused Philip to shiver a little as he didn’t bring his jacket. The moon was high in the sky and the campus was still and quiet, a big difference from all the escalation from tonight’s meeting.

               “Great game,” Daniel said behind him as they walked toward the dorms.

               Philip felt embarrassed to admit that he hadn’t done much talking to Daniel. In fact, he didn’t even know he lived in the dorms until now. But it wasn’t like talking to him was the worst thing in the world. It was actually quite nice. He felt more like himself and he was willing to challenge himself more with his friends than with his writing tutor. He felt free and he had fun, which was what he needed after knowing what he had to do between right now and Friday night.

               “Oh, um, thanks,” Philip replied, adjusting his glasses. He waited a few seconds for Daniel to catch up with him on the sidewalk. “Sorry we didn’t win.”

               Daniel shrugged, “At least it wasn’t a massive insult to our intelligence. It’s a game of chance, you can’t control it.”

               Philip kept his mind on more important matters than the dull conversation. He was trying to see how inviting one of the board game club members would work out. They were the only people he talked to, after all. First, he’d have to convince them that his writing tutor had more than two brain cells to rub together, which would be a miracle in itself. Then, he’d have to force them into a loud, obnoxious party full of drunk, pretentious, senseless people. And asking a bunch of lame introverts to do anything is exhausting in the first place. Perhaps he could show up without a plus one? It’s not like there’ll actually be a doorman checking every single person, right? It’s a college party, since when were there rules anyway?

               “Are you okay?” he heard Daniel ask him with concern.

               Philip’s worrisome thoughts drifted away and he looked at him in confusion. “Yeah?”

               “I was just wondering because your teeth were making weird noises. I couldn’t tell if you were grinding them or chattering.”

               He brought his arms closer to his body, “the latter.”

               Daniel began unzipping his jacket, “here, you can—”

               The beep of the resident hall door unlocking due to Philip swiping his I.D. interrupted him. Philip opened the door. “I…don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

               Daniel offered a disappointed smile and entered the building. “Um, well, goodnight I guess.”

               He doubted his polite positivity, but he could take all the luck he could get.

                                                                                       ***

               As Philip yawned loudly in his warm bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he never recalled a more vivid dream than the one he had last night. He felt like he barely had any sleep, and the dream didn’t make it any easier. He put his glasses on and instinctively reached for his phone from his desk to check if he had any overnight notifications. He had a mysterious email from someone at his school named Daniel Howell in response to his online advertisement. At first, he couldn’t believe it. He read the email over and over again, but it still came to the same conclusion: this Daniel guy wanted to be his date for Friday night. He scratched his head; he could’ve sworn his dream was exactly like this, posting an online ad on some job website as a joke to get a desperate date on Friday night. With this sudden realization, and panic, he checked and understood that sleep deprivation could make a person do a lot of questionable things. He quickly deleted the advertisement as soon as he had the opportunity, cringing at the very fact that he ever did such a thing. But now what was he going to do with this Daniel guy? He could’ve sworn he met someone last night by the same first name, unless that was a dream as well. But no way would that Daniel be interested in some stupid party anyway. But besides that, Philip somehow finally had a plus one! Being that he was going to be late for his morning class if he spent any more time in bed, he decided to respond later to the email and get moving.

               Throughout the day, Philip was too preoccupied with doing homework, thinking about last night’s meeting, and reading his new book to even spend one minute thinking about the party. He even almost promised himself to attend the free movie showing on Friday if he hadn’t checked his calendar first. He was subsequently hit with dread for the remainder of the day. Then it somehow got worse when he had to be faced with the most gorgeous face he’d ever seen for an hour.

               “There you go again, using your passive voice rather than active,” his tutor told him, making a red mess out of his paper. “Pajamas are not worn by people, people wear pajamas! Always put the subject first to keep your audience reading. It gives it a little more life, you know?”

               Philip was a little more annoyed today than usual. He was growing impatient, too. The semester was halfway over and all he knew about this boy was that he played basketball, lived off campus, knew literally everybody, wanted to be a sports journalist, and hated having too much ice in his beverages. This was only the tip of the iceberg, Philip was certain of it. There had to be something more interesting to him than those few things. What was his favorite color? What board game does he like to play with his family? What movies does he cry to? It’s becoming exhausting to keep going like this. Philip had poured his heart to him through his writing, bought him multiple coffees, dedicated most of his afternoons, and even waited on him when he was an hour late repeatedly. Something had to be done about this. Philip bit his lip as he looked at him across the table, too concentrated on the flow of his red pen to notice. Friday was going to be it. The most popular guy in school was going to fall in love with him on that night. It only seemed fair. Now all Philip had to do was come up with an infallible plan.

               “Sorry, old habit…” Philip had to respond. “Did you check my revisions?”

               “Uh, yeah, they were pretty good,” he replied, barely paying attention to him. “When did you say this was due again?”

               “Next Wednesday,” Philip answered, checking his calendar, although it didn’t matter.

               “Right, perhaps we can meet again on Monday? You know this weekend is a bit busy for me.” He set down his pen and half smiled at him. “Which, now that I mentioned it, who are you planning on bringing?”

               Philip’s insides seemed to tighten all together at the same time, keeping him frozen in place. “I, uh, well…” he cleared his throat as he struggled to come up with a believable lie. “Someone I met…l-last week.” He honestly forgot all about the email from this morning.

               His tutor flashed him an impressed smile. “Phil! Wow! I can’t wait to meet them! Honestly, ugh, I’m so excited for Friday! I have a legit deejay coming, I’m getting a bubble pit installed, all the beer you can drink, and a bonfire. It’s gonna be sick! Legendary even!”

               Philip didn’t say anything as he wasn’t sure if any of those activities sounded good together. It sounded all too loud, boring, and unnecessary. At least nothing would distract him from his plan. He just hoped he would be able to execute it.

                                                                                               ***

               As the party began at nine, Philip contacted Daniel Howell to meet in his dorm room at eight. Either way, Philip thought nine was a bit late to start a party, but he didn’t make the rules. He probably wasn’t going to stay there all night anyway; he didn’t need to. He believed an hour should be sufficient to kiss a few times and get on with it. Currently, he was lying on his bed, staring up at his ugly water stained dropped ceiling, wishing Daniel Howell was there for some reason. He really needed someone to talk to. His chest was tight and his mind was racing, the way it usually did when he was hit with a wave of anxiety. He was finally beginning to have second-thoughts about all of this. Sure, he was a smart guy, but could he really pull something like this off? And what should he wear or say or do with his hands? He hadn’t kissed anybody in well over five months, and that was just for the pizza guy who he couldn’t afford a proper tip for (that was a bit of a disaster). Of course, the obvious answer would be to just be himself, but that’s a bit difficult as he was everything but that around his tutor.

               A sharp knock came from the door, which forced Philip out of his mind a little. He climbed out of his bed and went to open it.

               “Hi.” It was Daniel, but not the Daniel he was expecting.

               His eyebrows scrunched a little in confusion. “Daniel, right?”

               He was so cute. He was wearing probably one of the nicest white button down shirts he could find in his closet and his black jeans didn’t even have one speck of lint on them. He wore a dark gray bomber jacket over his shirt with a deck of vintage Bicycle cards and a single red rose in his hands. It was as if he was going on a special date. Philip felt bad. And stupid. Of course this was the Daniel all along. Nobody else would be pathetic enough to respond to such a silly online advertisement. Philip had to set things straight fast.

               “Well I sure hope so!” Daniel exclaimed. “Or else I’m gonna be late for a date with the most incredible guy I know!”

               He bit his lip and allowed Daniel to come further into his room. He closed the door behind him. “Dan, I have to tell you something…” he looked at Daniel sincerely, who was sitting patiently on his neatly made bed. He leaned on his dresser that was across the room. “This is not what you think this is. You’re…not exactly going to be my date for tonight.”

               Daniel’s face sunk and his eyes were filled with disappointment. “What do you need me to do then?”

               Philip felt bad for making him feel this way, but he had to tell him the truth somehow sometime. “I just need you to be my plus one when we enter the party, and then we can go our separate ways. So if you were worried if you were gonna have to be stuck with me all night, then I’m sure you feel a little relieved now.”

               Daniel bit his lip and set the deck of cards and the rose gently on the blue bedspread. “Why are you even going to this dumb party anyway? This isn’t like you.”

               Oh, what did Daniel know about him anyways! They practically just met earlier this week. He didn’t need to say that. Philip sighed, “Look, this will only be for an hour—tops. I just really need to do this one thing.”

               “Yeah?” Daniel folded his arms. “And what is that?”

               Now that he was going to say it out loud, the whole plan sounded stupid. Convince a practical stranger to kiss him? Could he be any more of a creep? “Well, um, it’s kinda silly, but it’ll help me in the long run, I’m sure.” He finally went to sit by Daniel on the bed. He rubbed his arm nervously, “I have a bit of a crush on my writing tutor.”

               Daniel nodded; “Yeah?” He paused for a moment and then said, “Phil, we all knew that. I mean, it’s obvious you don’t need a writing tutor. And, honestly, who doesn’t have a crush on that guy? He’s gorgeous.”

               Philip’s face lit up and he smiled widely, “Exactly! And perhaps by him inviting me tonight might say something, a small something, but still something.” He looked at him sincerely, “Dan, I really need to do this. It’s been killing me ever since the semester started. I just need your help just for one night.”

               It took a while, but Daniel finally nodded and agreed to his plan.

               “Alright, first, you look terrible,” Philip commented on Daniel’s outfit. He got up and rummaged through his dresser drawers and pulled out one of his blue college t-shirts. He threw it in Daniel’s direction. “Wear that. We’re going to a party, not to dinner.”

               Daniel shrugged off his jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Great, just my favorite color.”

               Philip turned his head, slightly excited to know this special fact about him. “Really?”

               Daniel giggled, “No, it’s black, but you were close.” He shoved his head through the t-shirt, “And what were you planning to wear?”

               “This!” Philip pointed to his gray sweatpants and tight yellow t-shirt he got for free from volunteering. “What’s wrong with this?”

               Daniel pushed his arms through the sleeves and pulled the rest of the shirt down over his torso. “It looks like you’re trying too hard at not trying too hard.”

               Blood rushed to Philip’s cheeks and he glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked like he was going to the party in his pajamas. And although that was what his essay was about, he rather not be a living example of it in front of his crush. “What should I do then?”

               Daniel walked toward the mirror to fix his wavy brown hair. He shrugged, “Just slip on some jeans and a nice sweater. You’ll be fine.”

               “A sweater?” Philip retorted, heading toward his closet.

               “It shows off your softer side,” Daniel replied and then looked at him sincerely. “Guys like that.”

                                                                                               ***

               “Do you think its lame?” Philip asked Daniel with his head in his hands. “Arriving on time at a party?” They were a block away from the supposedly “abandoned” house where the party was located. They chose to sit on a low stone wall someone had in their front yard. The street was barely lit and quiet as most of the houses in the neighborhood were abandoned also. Philip heard it had something to do with the economy, but he didn’t care enough to pay attention. He crushed a few dry leaves with his sneaker and shivered as an autumn breeze passed by. He’s glad he’s wearing this sweater because it was another cold night. Daniel zipped his jacket and shoved his hands in its pockets.

               “This is my first party, so I’m not quite sure,” Daniel responded, watching a few cars pass by.

               “We should’ve stopped by Starbucks or something.” Philip’s mind was racing with thoughts of his own inadequacy and regrets.

               Daniel laughed out loud, which put Philip at ease. “Starbucks? Before a party?” he shook his head. “Starbucks is only for when you’re running late for a meeting.” He was quiet for a few moments and then looked at him sincerely. “I mean, we can bail if you want to. Coffee sounds really nice.”

               Philip shook his head, “it’s not like it’s every day you get invited to huge parties like this one.”

               “You’re right, maybe he’ll take offence to you not coming to his social status event that’s full of other fake people in need to maintain their social status.” Daniel rolled his eyes.

               Philip narrowed his eyes at him. “I bet you’re one of those people who announce a ‘social media detox’ and still sticks around just to see if anyone cares. Spoiler alert: no one does.”

               Daniel gave him a nasty look. “You’re mean when you’re stressed, you know that?”

               Philip sighed and stood up. “Shut up and let’s go.”

               Daniel sighed and followed him down the cracked sidewalk. They could hear the loud music pulsing from the party already. Philip could feel it in his chest (or was that his own heartbeat?). More cars raced down the street, with their music blasting as well. The closer they got to the house, they saw all the flashing lights and faint smoke from the bonfire. Philip’s stomach became tenser and his palms began to sweat once he realized this was actually happening. As they approached the house, they came across a long line of people that were already halfway drunk, waiting to enter the house.

               “You don’t suppose he actually made a guest list, do you?” Daniel asked Philip in his ear.

               Philip was too anxious to answer. There were at least a hundred people in the line. Some people were already being rejected and thrown out, which caused a loud commotion. After twenty or so minutes, they were finally at the front of the line. The whole ordeal felt like it was straight from a movie scene, with the huge intimidating bodyguard (he was actually one of the basketball players) asking for his name and checking the very sophisticated guest list. After they were approved, Philip felt a little better, but not entirely. The inside of the house smelled like mold and cat urine. There were old takeout food wrappers, bottles, cigarette butts, and broken pieces of rotted furniture everywhere. Candles and camping lanterns served as the only few light sources. All the windows were either broken or cracked and bugs were not a rare sight. However, perhaps the music and the people distracted Philip from how bad it really was.

               “Alright, in order to do this the most efficient way possible, I think it would be best if we split up,” Philip told Daniel loudly as they stood in the middle of a supposed living room. The chandelier above them was full of cobwebs and it was slightly swaying. “If you find him, you come get me.”

               “But how will I know where you are?” Daniel asked him. “By then I would lose him.”

               Philip had to admit he hadn’t thought that far into it. “I don’t know…this place can’t possibly be that big…”

               “Just…” Daniel reached for his back pocket and took out his phone. “Give me your number.”

               With much reluctance, Philip offered his phone number and turned toward the back door to go outside. He was hit with such an abundance of stimulation that he wanted to immediately run and hide from everything. The deejay booth was at the back of the huge backyard with inappropriately large speakers blaring out music that was rather distasteful according to Philip. Next to the deejay booth was the massive bubble pit that surprisingly had a lot of people participating in. As most of the people were nearly naked, Philip didn’t add that to his list of things to do. The bonfire was in the center, with the flames reaching at least six feet in the air. People from upstairs were throwing random furniture to the grass below to feed the fire; there was already a wooden chair, a broken desk, and a mattress. There were at least five kegs of beer sitting around, but no food. That was probably what made Philip the most uncomfortable.

               Philip made his way to one of the kegs and poured himself a half cup of beer and sat on the grass near the bonfire by himself, really wishing he had a s’more right about now. He took a drink, hoping it’ll help him find his confidence.

               “Well, he’s nowhere in the house, that’s for sure,” Daniel told him breathlessly. He sat down beside him and peered inside of Philip’s empty cup.

               “They have no food here,” Philip commented disappointedly, keeping his eyes on the fire.

               Daniel shrugged, “They’re narcissists; do you really think they’ll take the precious time to think about food instead of themselves?” He smirked, “besides, all they need to survive is fake internet points.”

               “Turn it down a notch, Mr. Edge Lord,” Philip rolled his eyes. “Can’t you just enjoy yourself without pushing your ‘alternative’ agenda on me?”

               Daniel smiled at him and he looked around. “They don’t have any games either.”

               Philip giggled, “Can you imagine if someone whipped out Monopoly?”

               He laughed, “Either you pay the full fine of Boardwalk with a hotel or you get banished to…the bubble pit.”

               Philip smiled widely and glanced over at the bubble pit. “What are the chances of him being in there?”

               “I think seventy-five percent,” he answered rather confidently. “But first you have to strip.”

               “That’ll really get his attention,” Philip laughed, crushing his cup and throwing it into the fire.

               At that moment, someone screamed loudly into the deejay’s microphone, requesting a trap remix of “All Star.” Philip was seriously questioning if he suddenly got pushed into an alternate universe where anything was absurdly possible within the heavily skewed timeline. Everyone began dancing recklessly and someone finally threw the smelly old mattress into the fire.

               “Well, at least we know what type of music the love of your life enjoys,” Daniel commented rather sarcastically.

               “You mean…?” Philip was in disbelief. His eyes scanned the dense crowd and he saw him. He could see that mop of blond hair anywhere. His stomach tensed and he rolled up his sleeves to help cool himself down.

               Daniel nudged his shoulder, “Now is your chance!”

               Philip sighed and rose to his feet, “Alright, but this requires another drink. Or two.”

               After gulping down another cup of beer, Philip fixed his hair, straightened his glasses, and pushed his sleeves up a bit more. He slowly made his way to the crowd. He pushed and shoved between the moist and drunk bodies to get to the life of the party. Finally, after a few suffocating minutes, he bumped into his tutor. Heat rushed over his body as he was shirtless and looked rather good that way.

               “H-hi,” Philip began nervously. Backing out now would not only be stupid, but also a complete waste of his time and effort. He accepted the fact that he was stuck here.

               “Oh, Phil!” He put a muscular arm around his bony shoulder. “It’s good to see you! I was hoping you would come.”

               “Nice party,” Philip complimented while he felt him dance all too closely to his body.

               “Aw, this is nothing!” He replied and wrapped a hand around Philip’s waist and shouted in his ear, “Wait until later! I got a firework crew coming!”

               All Philip could think about was that firm hand on his waist. Soon he was speaking without thinking. “Do—do you want to get out of here?”

               His tutor paused a few seconds, his blue eyes locking with his. Suddenly his large damp hand caressed Philip’s jaw and he glanced at his lips and back up to his eyes. He didn’t hesitate to kiss him hard on the lips, giving no time for Philip to adjust to the warm sensation. “You’re cute,” he simply said in one of his charming smiles.

               Philip’s insides were both frozen and moving all over the place at the same time. He felt weak in the knees. That kiss certainly didn’t go as planned, but it still felt exciting to him. None of his thoughts made logical sense anymore. Something in his brain switched and suddenly he felt the need for something more. “I’m serious; do you want to get away?” he had to shout in his ear.

               “Oh, I see,” he wiggled his perfect eyebrows at him and took his hand. As he had more authority, the crowd practically parted for them. Philip could breathe better now that there were less people.

               “Phil!” Daniel shouted as they passed by him.

               All Philip could do was shrug his shoulders as he was being dragged away too fast.

               The trip through the house was all but a blur to Philip as there were barely any lights and they were rushing through too quickly. His tutor was opening random doors until he finally discovered a dark room upstairs with still the mattress left. After he slammed the door shut behind them, he pinned Philip against the wall harshly and started kissing his neck.

               “Ah!” Philip gasped and tried to figure out where to put his hands. He finally settled to put them on his tutor’s waist. When he finally regained (most) of his senses, he confessed, “I guess you could tell then?”

               He felt him smile against his skin. “Phil, though you may be an English genius, you aren’t very good at hiding the obvious.” His lips trailed up to his jaw and he kissed him hard again.

               Philip gasped happily again and he pulled him closer. He was pretty sure he just saw literal fireworks outside the window. He heard the bangs and everything. “I suppose you like me too, then?”

               “Sure, you could put it that way,” he told him and gave his butt an unexpected squeeze. “Get on the mattress.”

               Philip was beginning to feel like this was going way too fast for him. Surely they’re not ready for this already? “Um, is it…is it sanitized?” Philip gently lowered himself on the dirty carpet and rested his knee on the mattress.

               “Yeah,” his tutor answered as he plopped himself down on the mattress. A small cloud of dust floated up. “Well, I think so.”

               Philip cringed and he tried to sit lightly on the bed. However, the boy climbed over him and kissed him hard enough to push him all the way into the dirty mattress. More explosions could be heard and sparks could be seen outside the bare cracked window. He glanced down at the boy who was now kissing his neck again and felt relieved, accomplished, and lucky at the same time. He took the liberty to run his fingers through his soft blond hair—something he had far too often dreamed about.

               His tutor sat up on his knees. “Phil, you still have your clothes on,” he told him as he began to unzip his own jeans.

               What? Philip was beginning to feel like something was wrong here. Why was he supposed to be the one to take off his own clothes? That wasn’t how this worked. However, given that he didn’t want to cause any trouble, he reluctantly pulled off his sweater, feeling incredibly self-conscious about his soft torso being too close to the boy’s toned one. Kisses were being trailed all over Philip’s chest now and he was beginning to feel good again. He let out a quiet moan as his heart was racing. Though, at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel dirty. Sure, for obvious reasons since he was on the most disgraceful mattress he’s ever encountered, but also because he felt so disconnected from it. They weren’t laughing or making any jokes—not even talking at all. It was only physical. Like he was being used. Perhaps he could change that.

               “So, um, what are your plans for fall break?” Philip asked him awkwardly as he struggled to adjust his body from being crushed to death by the muscular one on top of him.

               “I don’t ‘do’ talking,” he said firmly as he was kissing down Philip’s stomach. He then sighed in frustration. “Phil, your jeans are still on.”

               Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it; Philip wanted to say to him, but went along with it anyway. As his hands inched down to his zipper, he remembered something. “Do you have a condom? I wasn’t really expecting this and I’m not really that experienced, sorry.”

               “Uh, no?” he sat back on his heels. “But we’ll be fine, right? It’s just one time.”

               Despite having the most beautiful body on display before him like that, Philip suddenly didn’t want this anymore. He wanted to find Daniel, leave, and take a long shower. And then perhaps eat some pizza. But not this. Anything but this. Almost without notice, he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore and coughed a little. He sat up and tried to retrieve his sweater from the darkness. “I have to go,” he said breathlessly.

               His tutor quickly reached out for him and pleaded, “No, stay! Isn’t this what you wanted? What we wanted?”

               Philip wrestled out of his grip and coughed again. “You’re drunk,” he slipped his sweater on, but the room was too hot for him to find any comfort in it. “Do you…do you feel that?” he stretched out his collar, trying to let more air into his lungs.

               “What do you mean?” he asked, but their attention was immediately diverted to the window. Hot orange flames could be seen, creeping down around the window. “The fireworks!”

               Philip didn’t even wait for him. He bolted out the door and ran down the stairs. There was only one thing on his mind. He needed to know where Daniel was. He needed to make sure that he was okay. He oddly didn’t care about himself, or his stupid tutor, or anybody else. It was only Daniel.

               Philip desperately rushed outside with a cloud of smoke and his half-naked tutor behind him. They both doubled over and coughed loudly and deeply. Philip saw flashing lights all around him in colors of red, blue, orange, and white. Firefighters in uniform rushed into the abandoned house. Everyone from the party was standing around in the street staring at the blaze. Some were seriously freaking out while others were making jokes and filming it on their phones.

               Philip rushed out on to the crowded street in a panic. Where did he last see Daniel? Through everything that has happened within the past thirty or so minutes, he wasn’t sure of a lot of things anymore. He ran his fingers through his incredibly dirty hair and tried to think hard. He really wished he didn’t drink that last cup of beer. He passed by an ambulance that already had somebody on a stretcher. That didn’t relieve his thoughts all that much. Tears were stinging his eyes as his questions still remained unanswered.

               “Daniel!” Philip shouted out as he passed through the crowd. “Has anybody seen Dan? Daniel!”

               He stopped in his tracks as his back pocket vibrated. He quickly took out his phone and felt relief surge through his body.

               “Hey, where are you at?” Daniel asked him on the phone almost too casually. “The freaking house caught on fire! You should’ve seen how it started, it was so ridiculous,” he laughed. “I swear, this idiotic party was set up by a bunch of—”

               “Are you okay?” Philip got straight to the point. “Where are you?”

               “I, um, I’m…I think I see you,” Daniel replied. “You look terrible.”

               Philip turned in circles until he saw a blue dot in the distance. Actually, it was pretty easy to see him as everyone was mostly shirtless to begin with. Philip rushed forward quickly, pushing people to get through, until he met with Daniel. He threw his arms around him tightly, making sure to not let go. He squeezed his eyes shut and by surprise, hot tears streamed down his cheeks.

               “Boy, you must’ve really missed me,” Daniel joked, wrapping his arms around Philip’s waist.

               Philip let go so he could take Daniel’s face into his hands. “No, you idiot! I was worried about you!”

               Something in Daniel’s mind suddenly clicked as he glanced at the burning house and back at Philip. “Don’t tell me…you weren’t…you weren’t in that house were you?”

               Philip sniffled, “Doesn’t matter. Are you okay?”

               “Pshhh, yeah, I’m fine,” he brushed off. “How did,” he smiled, “how did your ‘talk’ go?”

               Philip stepped back a little and he rolled his eyes. “That guy’s a loser. He made us lay on a filthy dirty mattress and he didn’t even bring a condom!”

               “You guys had sex?!” Daniel asked a little too loudly.

               Philip giggled and he shook his head. He looked at Daniel for a few seconds and he felt safe. He was glad they were both okay, but more importantly that Daniel actually cared about him. Perhaps it was the alcohol or the fact that Daniel looked good in his own t-shirt, but he felt something he hadn’t felt before. He wasn’t sure where that came from, so he looked at the fireball that was the house to distract him. “No doubt he’ll be going to jail for this,” he looked over at Daniel once more, then back at the flames, and he bit his lip.

               Daniel smirked, “Can’t believe you almost were the one that would have to bail him out.” He sighed with relief, “but I guess the only good thing that came out of this is was that you’re still alive.” He smiled at him.

               Philip felt something stronger then than when his tutor smiled at him. Oh no. This was certainly not supposed to happen. But perhaps, there were some things he couldn’t control. Very carefully, he took the chance and gently brushed Daniel’s face with his fingertips. He leaned in slowly and he kissed him. It wasn’t hard or desperate like the other kisses he received earlier this night; instead it was more sincere and slow. Daniel kissed him back eagerly, and it was clear that he didn’t do it to express good manners. Philip was sure he never felt anything more right this entire night.

               “Was this part of the agreement?” Daniel whispered after kissing him, their foreheads barely touching.

               Philip tilted his head in confusion, “what do you mean?”

               “You hired me, remember? The ad? The whole plan you had for tonight?” Daniel asked him. “I don’t mean to be that kind of person, but I’m still on the clock. And I don’t really care about the money, so don’t…”

               Philip shook his head apologetically, “I’m sorry, Dan. I honestly forgot.” He bit his lip, “I’m a bit broke at the moment.”

               Daniel smiled at him and he brought Philip’s hand up to his lips and he softly kissed it and rested it on his cheek. “That’s okay; I can accept weekly payments.”

[thewebofslime]

The “Operation Crossfire Hurricane” plot against President Donald Trump is now exposed for the world to see, with special counsel Robert Mueller coming up empty in his quest to pin Trump with Russian collusion or obstruction of justice. We have explosive information about this scheme, including the involvement of former president Barack Obama, Obama intelligence officials John Brennan and James Clapper, failed Democrat presidential candidate Hillary Clinton, disgraced FBI agent Peter Strzok, the Fusion GPS set-up agent Natalia Veselnitskaya, and even foreign leaders including Angela Merkel. This article will firmly demonstrate the following: Hillary Clinton’s campaign used the Christopher Steele dossier before their involvement was covered up Senior Obama administration officials secretly plotted to involve senators in the “Russia” conspiracy James Clapper tried to use the “Russia” narrative to get the Supreme Court to invalidate Trump’s presidency Natalia Veselnitskaya was a Fusion GPS set-up agent who worked out of an Obama official’s office in D.C. Peter Strzok ran point on destroying General Flynn and covering up for Hillary Clinton Barack Obama used foreign powers to keep the scheme going, even after he left the Oval Office to President Trump HILLARY Used The Dossier During Her Campaign advertisement - story continues below Trending: EXCLUSIVE AUDIO: Shep Smith Accuser Says Fox News Host Sexually Attacked Him, Kept Going After He Tried To Push Him Off The Hillary Clinton campaign issued a press release on September 24, 2016 promoting information from the Christopher Steele dossier. That press release has almost completely been scrubbed from the Internet, but is preserved in at least one tweet and in an Internet archive sponsored by The American Presidency Project. The Clinton campaign, which funded the debunked dossier in an effort to obtain a FISA warrant to surveil Trump Tower, actively promoted a “Bombshell Report About Trump Aide’s Chilling Ties To Kremlin.” The Trump aide with the purported Kremlin ties was Carter Page. The “bombshell report” was a Yahoo News article by Michael Isikoff headlined “U.S. intel officials probe ties between Trump adviser and Kremlin.” Rep. Devin Nunes’ intelligence memo makes clear that Isikoff’s article, which was promoted by the Clinton campaign, used Christopher Steele as its source and was used to help obtain the FISA warrant. The FISA warrant application falsely states that Steele did not leak information to Yahoo News. advertisement - story continues below “We’ve never seen anything like this in American politics,” Hillary for America says in its statement, which called the information in Isikoff’s article “chilling.” Clinton adviser Adam Parkhomenko tweeted out the statement: Screenshot OBAMA Officials Plotted To Get Senators Involved In The Plot In The Hours Before President Trump Took Office Newly released emails show the Obama administration scrambling to create the “Russia” scandal within 24 hours of President Donald Trump taking the oath of office in January 2017. The desperation of the Obama administration is evident in the emails, in which the Obama team tries to involve Democratic senators Warner and Cardin and Republican senator Corker in the plot. Close observers know that the Operation Crossfire Hurricane strategy surfaced during the 2016 presidential election and continued well into Trump’s presidency, with General Michael Flynn getting snared in a Peter Strzok/Sally Yates ambush play in the early days of the Trump White House. Now, Team Obama’s documented effort to cook up the Russia story before Trump’s inauguration emboldens a narrative already proved by text messages (presented below) involving Obama official James Clapper: the Obama people actually thought they could stop Trump from getting sworn in. Judicial Watch, which obtained the emails in a Freedom of Information Act case, reports: “In a Thursday, January 5, 2017, email chain then-State Department Congressional Advisor Hera Abassi indicates that then-Assistant Secretary of State for European and Eurasian Affairs Victoria Nuland’s bureau was attempting to get Russian investigation related documents to the office of Senator Mark Warner (D-VA) office as quickly as possible. (In June 2016 Nuland permitted a meeting between Steele and the FBI’s legal attaché in Rome. Nuland told CBS News that the State Department knew about the Steele dossier by July 2016.) In the email, with the subject line “For Immediate Review – Call Sheet for S Call with Senator Warner,” Abassi writes: “I told Cardin’s folks … that the process is long. Can we ensure that there are no holdups on our end?” Minutes later, Abassi confirms that Nuland was fully aware of the information that the State Department was providing to members of Congress alleging Russia interference information: advertisement - story continues below “This is definitely on EUR A/S radar!” Leaving no doubt that the State Department officials knew they were transmitting classified information, in a Wednesday, January 18, 2017, email with the subject line “Cables/M,” Former Foreign Service Officer Kerem Bilge writes to State Department Congressional advisor Hilary Johnson and others: “Highest class is SECRET/NOFORN.” Johnson replies: “FYI – so we can keep the SECRET/NOFORN header, and should declassify it 25 years from tomorrow. “I forwarded the fully cleared version to the two of you on the high side [Editor’s Note: “high side” is State Department term for high security classification system], but let me know if there’s anything else you need from me on this. “Note: we’ll need to make sure there is someone in Senate security tomorrow who can accept these.” On Wednesday, January 18, 2017, Johnson confirms that classified documents were sent to Senator Corker in addition to Senator Cardin. “Flagging that I sent you a high side request for clearance of the draft transmittal letter to send documents to Senators Corker and Cardin.” Additionally, involved in providing classified information to members of the Senate was Naz Durakoglu, Senior Advisor to the Assistant Secretary for European and Eurasian Affairs. In an email dated Thursday, January 19, 2017, with the subject line “Signed, sealed, delivered” Durakoglu apparently confirms that Obama State Department officials were eager to provide the classified material before Trump was sworn into office: “We made the deadline!” Durakoglu states [Emphasis added] “Thank you everyone for what was truly a Department-wide effort!” President Trump was inaugurated less than 24 hours later. In a Wednesday, January 18, 2017 email, Naz Durakoglu signed off on the document transmittal letter on behalf of her bureau. This letter accompanied “the documents to Senator Corker and Cardin” In a Thursday, January 19, 2017 email, Durakoglu appears to confirm that she is who carried the documents from the State Department to Capitol Hill. She states, “I will be carrying over the cables to the Hill.'” Judicial Watch passage ends Multiple elements of the Obama machine were working overtime on their Russian cooking in the immediate lead-up to President Donald Trump’s historic inauguration. CLAPPER Tried To Use ‘Russia’ To Get The Supreme Court To Block Trump’s Presidency Obama administration Director of National Intelligence James Clapper held a meeting in his last days in office to discuss the idea of going to a Supreme Court justice to block President Donald Trump’s inauguration, according to a high-level member of the intelligence community who spoke with a Big League Politics source. Clapper discussed blocking the inauguration on the grounds that Trump was an illegitimate president due to alleged Russian interference in the election, according to the sources. It is not known whether Clapper ever actually convened a meeting with a Supreme Court justice to discuss the Russia case, or whether he simply discussed the idea of doing so. By the time Trump entered office on January 20, the Russia narrative was already underway. A high-level member of the intelligence community who witnessed the meeting said that Clapper discussed going to one of three female Supreme Court justices to make the case that alleged Russian interference could invalidate Trump’s claim to the presidency. Here’s a text the witness sent to BLP’s source: Here’s another text the witness sent to BLP’s source around the same time, describing how the Deep State was making General Michael Flynn a “rising target” for his alleged involvement with Russians, and stating that House Speaker Paul Ryan is a “wild card” in the Deep State wars. Big League Politics recently reported on an audiotape in which Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Seymour Hersh admitted that slain DNC staffer Seth Rich was the source for Wikileaks’ release of DNC emails in 2016, not a Russian hack. Hersh also said that Clapper and Obama administration CIA director John Brennan helped to create the Russia narrative against Trump. So, how did the conspirators do it? They used a set-up agent named Natalia Veselnitskaya, the fabled “Russian lawyer.” NATALIA: The Conspirators Got Her In, Then Locked Her Out, of The Country The U.S. Attorney’s office for the Southern District of New York, then led by anti-President Trump activist Preet Bharara, played a key role in getting Natalia Veselnitskaya into the country in 2015-2016 on special Obama administration passes. Now, fired U.S. Attorney Bharara’s former office has charged Veselnitskaya with obstruction of justice in an unrelated case. They did this to force Natalia to remain in Russia and not come back to the United States to testify, according to high-level FBI sources. Why? Because Natalia has made it clear that she knows Glenn Simpson — the Fusion GPS head she had dinner with the night before and and the night after her Trump Tower set-up meeting — and she has said that her Trump Tower meeting with Don Jr. had nothing to do with Hillary Clinton. Robert Mueller, Bharara, and the anti-Trump conspirators want to focus on Michael Cohen as a witness and block out any witnesses that would unravel their entire invented narrative — like Natalia, the spy who was used to set up the phony meeting that led to the fraudulent FISA warrants on the Trump team. The Department of Homeland Security confirmed that Veseltnitskaya gained parole into the United States during the Obama administration due to a DHS decision made “in concurrence with the U.S. Attorney’s Office of Southern District of New York,” then headed by Preet Bharara. But the very people who wanted to get Natalia in now very much want to keep her out. advertisement - story continues below Natalia Veselnitskaya was charged with obstruction of justice Tuesday to prevent her from coming back to the United States to testify in the Robert Mueller-related cases because her statements have already contradicted Mueller’s narrative, according to high-level FBI sources. Veselnitskaya, who is now in Russia, was charged for making a “misleading declaration” in a civil money-laundering case. Veselnitskaya’s indictment was filed in federal court in Manhattan and unsealed by the U.S. Attorney’s Office in the Southern District of New York, formerly led by anti-Trump activist Preet Bharara and still dominated by his underlings. Now Veselnitskaya can’t return to the United States to contradict the Michael Cohen-focused case, because she would be arrested upon her arrival in this country. So what could Veselnitskaya spill if she testified? For one thing, Fusion GPS has tried to claim no knowledge of Veselnitskaya’s Trump Tower meeting, despite the fact that Veselnitskaya had dinner with Fusion GPS chief Glenn Simpson the night before the meeting and also the night after the meeting. Veselnitskaya’s appearance on Fox News, in which she discussed her relationship with Glenn Simpson, did not sit well with the Operation Crossfire Hurricane conspirators. Particularly her quote, “But my meeting was not at all connected with Mrs. Hillary Clinton.” Geoffrey Berman, the U.S. attorney who signed the Veselnitskaya indictment, was recused from the Michael Cohen case by Department of Justice officials working under Rod Rosenstein. Berman is identified in the press as a Trump appointee but he is actually a Jeff Sessions appointee. Here is what an FBI insider recently told us, prior to Mueller officially coming up empty-handed: “Mueller’s team of partisans has a problem. They want to get Trump Jr. and Jared Kushner so they are working hard to prove that Jr and Kushner lied about the June 9th 2016 Trump Tower meeting. The Special Counsel has their version (Fusion GPS’ version) of what happened in the meeting but Veselnitskaya and Manafort’s versions don’t support their version. They tried to squeeze Manafort into reciting their version but in the end he resisted. So they claimed to the Judge that Manafort lied in his proffer to them. Veselnitskaya already met with Senate investigators and gave testimony about the meeting. This testimony doesn’t fall in line with the Special Counsel’s version so they have to discredit her and keep her from coming to the U.S. for any future hearings hence the strange indictment today by holdovers of Preet Bharara. The Trump Tower meeting, facilitated by Fusion GPS and debriefed by Fusion GPS, was an original attempt to get candidate Trump to make commitments to Russia regarding the subversion of the Magnitsky Act. This was the original purpose of the entrapment but candidate Trump didn’t fall for it. So they didn’t want a good set-up to go to waste. Veselnitskaya only mentioned dirt on Hillary as a rouse to get the Trump campaign to meet with her regarding the Magnitsky scheme. Fusion GPS, Brennan and Comey were trying to set Trump up to commit a serious crime related to Russia but they were unsuccessful. After Trump was elected they dug through all of their attempts to find something useful and realized they could spin several setup meetings with Trump Campaign officials as somehow being related to hacked emails. This is proven by the fact that all the meetings were conducted by people associated with the CIA (Halper and Mifsud) and the FBI (Fusion GPS and Henry Greenburg). It is also proven by the fact that the FISA warrants obtained by the FBI never had any mention of Hacked emails.” FBI source’s statement concludes Roger Stone was also targeted by one of these set-up plays. Stone’s lawyer Grant Smith wrote the following in a letter to Rep. Devin Nunes: “By way of example, as you know, back in June I sent this Committee a letter regarding a longtime FBI informant named Gennadiy Vasilievich Vostretsov who, under the alias “Henry Greenberg”, was sent to approach my client in May 2016 with claims of having access to information that could impact the election. Mr. Stone not only immediately and forcefully declined to participate in anything this FBI informant was proposing, but never saw or spoke to the informant again. Mr. Stone believes it highly likely that Mr. Vostretsov/Greenberg’s status as an FBI informant was not “former”, and that Vostretsov/Greenberg was, in fact, actively working on behalf of the FBI at the time of their meeting, acting upon a calculated effort to entrap Mr. Stone and, further, to infiltrate and compromise the Trump effort. Notably, Vostretsov was admitted to the country nine separate times on an FBI Informant’s visa.” My reporting on Natalia and the Fusion GPS plot against President Trump has changed the face of the news cycle: The Russian lawyer Natalia Veselnitskaya who set up Don Trump Jr. for a meeting in Trump Tower as part of a Fusion GPS plot was operating out of the Washington offices of Cozen O’Connor, a law firm run by an anti-Trump former Obama administration official whose super PAC donated to Hillary Clinton and Jeb Bush in the 2016 presidential election. Veselnitskaya’s work from the Cozen O’Connor office provides more evidence of a Democrat and establishment Republican effort to set up the Trump campaign for a future Russian collusion case. Veselnitskaya was allowed into the United States by the Obama Department of Justice while the former Obama official who runs Cozen O’Connor publicly warned then-candidate Trump that if he became president he would be investigated by the DOJ for contacts with foreign leaders. Veselnitskaya reportedly had dinner meetings with Fusion GPS chief Glenn Simpson the day before she met in Trump Tower and also the day after she went inside Trump Tower. Big League Politics has confirmed that a Cozen O’Connor partner who lives in the same apartment building as James Comey’s friend Daniel Richman — who leaked classified information to the press on Comey’s behalf — spoke with Richman during the period that Comey and the Fusion GPS team were trying to obtain FISA warrants on Trump Tower. Let’s break down the facts of an Obama administration official’s involvement in the Trump Tower plot: advertisement - story continues below Russian and U.S. citizen Rinat Akhmetshin, a Soviet military veteran, was present at Veselnitskaya’s meeting with Don Jr. in Trump Tower after leading a lobbying push supposedly to repeal the Magnitsky Act. Akhmestshin is believed by insiders to be linked to Russian government intelligence, a fact that the Washington Post seized on when reporting that he met with Don Jr. and Jared Kushner in Trump Tower. A nonprofit group focused on promoting Akhmetshin and Veselnitskaya’s cause to lawmakers actually hired Cozen O’Connor, which the law firm confirms. The Washington Post reported (emphasis added): “In the spring of 2016, as the presidential race was heating up, Akhmetshin and lobbyists he hired sought meetings on Capitol Hill to make their case against the sanctions law. Akhmetshin hired former Democratic congressman Ron Dellums, along with a team of lobbyists from the law firm of Cozen O’Connor. Steve Pruitt, a business colleague speaking on Dellums’s behalf, said his involvement was brief and ended when he determined that Congress was unlikely to change the law. In June, after visiting Trump Tower in New York, Veselnitskaya came to Washington to lend a hand in the lobbying effort. She attended a meeting of the team at the downtown offices of Cozen O’Connor, where she spoke at length in Russian about the issues but confused many in the room, who had not been told previously about her involvement, according to several participants.” Washington Post passage ends Cozen O’Connor managing partner Howard Schweitzer is listed here on a DOJ form from an investigation into the breaking of lobbying laws by Russians trying to repeal the Magnitsky Act — which was just a front to get Russians in the room with Don Jr. We know now that Natalia Veselnitskaya was actually operating out of the Cozen O’Connor offices. Schweitzer worked as general counsel for the Export-Import Bank under George W. Bush and was chief operating officer of the TARP bailout program under both Bush and Obama from 2008-2009. “In October 2008, Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson appointed Howard as the first COO of TARP. In this position, Howard led program execution and built the TARP infrastructure. He served as a key point person regarding the financial crisis through the presidential transition and continued to serve as TARP COO under Secretary Timothy Geithner until August 2009,” reads Schweitzer’s Cozen O’Connor bio. “He served as chief operating officer of the TARP in the George W. Bush and Obama administrations,” reads Schweitzer’s bio for a Politico piece he wrote in August 2016 headlined “7 Reasons Why Trump Would Hate Being President.” Schweitzer’s virulently anti-Trump piece for Politico tries to make the case that Trump was “sabotaging his own bid for the White House.” Schweitzer said that if Trump became president then “He’ll be investigated to death” by Congress and the Justice Department for his business dealings and “relationships with foreign leaders.” The narrative was being set. The Philadelphia-based Cozen O’Connor law firm also has a political action committee that donated to Hillary Clinton during the 2016 presidential election, in addition to Jeb Bush, Chris Christie, John Kasich, and Martin O’Malley. In the 2018 election cycle, the Cozen O’Connor PAC donated more money to Hillary Clinton’s dormant campaign. I found the Obama Officials Office That SPY Natalia Worked Out of https://t.co/fWPfw2tU0u — Patrick Howley (@howleyreports) December 19, 2018 Here is Veselnitskaya seated behind Obama ambassador to Russia Mike McFaul at a June 2016 congressional hearing focused on Russia. Cozen O’Connor’s connections to the anti-Trump “Operation Crossfire Hurricane” plot are wide-ranging, and show up in unexpected places. James Comey’s friend, Columbia University professor Daniel Richman, leaked classified information that Comey gave him. During this leaking period, Richman was apartment-building neighbors with a partner at the Cozen O’Connor law firm that strategized with Fusion GPS operative Natalia Veselnitskaya, the Russian plant who set up Don Jr. in Trump Tower. Veselnitskaya and Fusion GPS, led by Glenn Simpson, were part of John Brennan and Peter Strzok’s CIA-led “Operation Crossfire Hurricane” plot aimed at President Donald Trump and the Trump campaign. “Yes, he is my neighbor,” Amy Wenzel, a partner at Cozen O’Connor, confirmed in a phone conversation with Big League Politics, confirming that they spoke. They live near each other in a Brooklyn high-rise. The Washington Post’s release of Trump Tower documents shows the crowd surrounding non-sexual honeypot Natalia Veselnitskaya. The crowd of conspirators knew they were damaging Trump by setting up the meeting. The Post confirms British-citizen music promoter Rob Goldstone’s testimony to the Senate Judiciary Committee, in which he described the conspirators’ push to get the meeting despite the fact that they knew it would create trouble for the Trump campaign. The Post reports: “Rob Goldstone told the committee that his client, the Russian pop star and developer Emin Agalarov, had insisted he help set up the meeting between President Trump’s son and the lawyer during the campaign to pass along material on Clinton, overriding Goldstone’s own warnings that the meeting would be a bad idea. “He said, ‘it doesn’t matter. You just have to get the meeting,’ ” Goldstone, a British citizen, testified. The intensity with which Agalarov and his father, the billionaire Aras Agalarov, sought the Trump Tower meeting, which has become a key point of scrutiny for congressional inquiries and special counsel Robert S. Mueller III, was revealed in more than 2,500 pages of congressional testimony and exhibits released by the Senate Judiciary Committee on Wednesday morning.” Washington Post passage ends Natalia Veselnitskaya is also inextricably linked to the case against Paul Manafort. The Russian attorney partner of Paul Manafort who was named as a defendant in Robert Mueller charges is also linked to the Russian spy Natalia Vesenilskaya, who attended a meeting with Don Trump Jr. and Jared Kushner in Trump Tower. According to Mueller’s charges, Manafort’s Russian partner Konstantin Kilimnik tried to intimidate or coerce witnesses in Manafort’s upcoming money laundering trial. That put Konstantin Kilimnik at the center of the Mueller effort to find obstruction of justice in Trump-World. So who is Konstantine Kilimnik? It turns out that Kilimnik is linked to Veselnitskaya, the Fusion GPS agent, according to Senate documents. Here is how ProPublica described Kilimnik: “Konstantin Kilimnik: Manafort, who worked for the pro-Russian party in Ukraine before running Trump’s campaign, had an employee in Kiev named Konstantin Kilimnik who U.S. and Ukrainian authorities have suspected of having ties to Russian intelligence, according to Politico. Kilimnik served in the Russian army and learned English at a school that experts say often trains spies. Kilimnik denied being a spy to The Washington Post. Manafort had dinner with Kilimnik last August in New York, just before he was forced out of the Trump campaign amid growing questions about his work in the Ukraine, the Post reported.” Documents reveal Kilimnik’s ties to Veselniskaya. Let’s take a look at United States Senate Judiciary Committee documents questioning Veselniskaya in October. Judiciary Committee chairman Sen. Chuck Grassley and Ranking Member Sen. Dianne Feinstein asked Veselniskaya if she knew a handful of characters believed to be conspirators in the case. Grassley and Feinstein specifically asked Veselnitskaya if she knew Konstantin Kilimnik. Here is page 4 of the documents, naming Kilimnik: Former Attorney General Jeff Sessions was a member of the Senate Judiciary Committee as senator from Alabama. Veselnitskaya’s meeting with Don Jr. in Trump Tower provided some of the basis for warrants to surveil Trump Tower and for other FBI surveillance measures on the Trump campaign. The fact that Veselnitskaya, a lawyer herself, was in the meeting with Trump Jr. and Kushner opened the president’s son and son-in-law up to being qualified as “target associations” for law enforcement under Section 702 of the FISA Amendments Act of 2008, passed during the Bush administration. Veselniskaya’s link to suspected conspirator Kilimnik is now coming under scrutiny. Peter Strzok, meanwhile, is firmly established as the go-to guy who ran point on the entire operation. PETER STRZOK, POINT MAN Both John Brennan and James Comey used Peter Strzok to damage President Donald Trump. Strzok is the disgraced FBI agent and fired Robert Mueller team member whose text messages with mistress Lisa Page form the biggest scandal in FBI history. The lovers conspired to illegally bring down Trump, all while the FBI was spying on the Trump campaign. Strzok interviewed Hillary Clinton without putting her under oath, and granted immunity to Cheryl Mills and Clinton’s other associates right before he flew to London to meet with Christopher Steele to work on the anti-Trump dossier, which was sponsored by the Clinton-funded firm Fusion GPS. That dossier was used to fraudulently obtain FISA warrants to surveil Trump Tower. Barack Obama read bits of the dossier in his daily presidential briefings, courtesy of Brennan. Fusion GPS, meanwhile, sent operatives into Trump Tower to entrap Don Jr. and Jared Kushner in a meeting with planted Russians. When it was time for the conspirators to focus on Trump campaign adviser George Papadopoulos, Strzok was there to run information about the adviser to the Australians. When it was time to take out Trump’s national security adviser General Michael Flynn, Strzok was there to stage an “ambush” interrogation of Flynn without Flynn’s lawyer present. Let’s walk through Strzok’s amazing Zelig-like role in every facet of Operation Crossfire Hurricane: Brennan hired Strzok to write the Intelligence Community Assessment (ICA) in January 2017. Big League Politics This was an official document used to spur on the Robert Mueller investigation. But the document did not actually find any evidence of collusion between Trump and Russia, it merely said that Vladimir Putin “aspired” to help Trump and that Russia “developed a clear preference for Trump.” The Christopher Steele dossier was added as an “appendix” to the ICA report, even though Brennan lied and told Congress that it was never used. Comey Sent Strzok To London To Meet With The Australians About George Papadopoulos BLP George Papadopoulos was surveilled in real time by the FBI. Who set him up? Peter Strzok, whose meeting with the Australian ambassador in London provided key basis for the creation of Robert Mueller’s investigation, according to none other than the New York Times. Tyler Durden Explains: “The FBI sent counterintelligence agents, one of whom was Peter Strzok, to London in the summer of 2016 to meet with Australian ambassador, Alexander Downer, to describe his meeting with Trump campaign advisor, George Papadopoulos. The meeting with Downer was described as “highly unusual,” and “helped provide the foundation for a case that, a year ago Thursday, became the special counsel investigation.” The FBI kept details of the operation secret from most of the DOJ – with “only about five Justice Department officials” aware of the full scope of the case.” Strzok Cleared Hillary Clinton Right Before He Left For London Big League Politics called attention in July 2017 to the fact that Strzok was serving on the Mueller team after personally overseeing the Hillary Clinton email investigation at the FBI and personally conducting the interview with Hillary Clinton that was not under oath and which led to no incarceration for the Democrat candidate. Strzok also withheld information about the Hillary case from Congress according to this text: With the pressure on, Strzok’s wife Melissa Hodgman, Associate Director of the enforcement division of the Securities and Exchange Commission, is scrubbing her Obama and Clinton links. Hodgman was promoted by Obama just two weeks before FBI director James Comey re-opened the investigation into Hillary Clinton’s email scandal in 2016, leading political insiders to suspect that Hodgman might have been involved in the federal government’s cover-up. Some of the Liked pages on her Facebook account on December 3 included “Thank You Obama” and “We Voted For Hillary.” Strzok Sets Up Flynn On January 24, 2017, Peter Strzok interviewed General Michael Flynn inside the White House alongside another agent. Flynn’s lawyer was not present. Flynn apparently did not tell the White House about his meeting. Guess who did? Sally Yates, the anti-Trump deputy attorney general whose underling told the FBI to shut down the Clinton Foundation case. Yates informed the White House on January 26 that Flynn met with the FBI. That was the beginning of the end for the original Trump White House. Strzok was close personal friends with the foreign intelligence judge Rudolph Contreras who accepted General Flynn’s guilty plea. Contreras recused himself after he already accepted Flynn’s guilty plea. Strzok and Page detailed their plan to meet with Contreras in a July 25, 2016 series of texts: PAGE: “Rudy is on the [Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court]! Did you know that? Just appointed two months ago.” STRZOK: “I did. I need to get together with him.” PAGE: “said he’d gotten on a month or two ago at a graduation party we were both at.” Strzok and Page’s Texts Revealed Their Anti-Trump Plot It is well known that Strzok and Page discussed their anti-Trump conspiracy many thousands of times over text messages that have been mostly released. The lovers’ repeated references to “CF” refer to “Crossfire.” Here are Hot Air’s favorites: “Strzok: God Hillary should win. 100,000,000-0. Strzok: Just went to a southern Virginia Walmart. I could SMELL the Trump support… Strzok: I am riled up. Trump is a f***ing idiot, is unable to provide a coherent answer.” Brennan Plotted For Years To Get Trump, Starting with a Fly-By-Night Operation in Reno A whistleblower case currently in federal court in Washington, D.C. stands to bring out incredible allegations of John Brennan and James Clapper’s moves against Trump, Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts, and the former presiding judge of the FISA court Reggie Walton. Real estate mogul Timothy Blixseth admitted that he saw records from CIA and NSA whistleblower Dennis Montgomery proving that Clapper and Obama CIA director John Brennan oversaw repeated spying on the phone calls of President Donald Trump and millions of other private American citizens, including Supreme Court Justice John Roberts and FISA court judge Reggie Walton. Fired former FBI director James Comey received evidence from the whistleblower’s lawyer but sat on it. LISTEN TO THE BLIXSETH TAPE RIGHT HERE In an audiotaped interview — conducted before Trump ever ran for president — Blixseth spoke to former Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio and detective Mike Zullo. The audio was released in connection with a civil contempt case that the Department of Justice filed against Arpaio. The audio of this conversation appears to only be preserved in one location on the Internet, on a whistleblower Soundcloud page. “This guy showed me 900 million phone calls. And I see myself in there. I see people I know. I see Donald Trump in there a zillion times, and Bloomberg is in there,” Blixseth said on the tape, referring to information that Montgomery allegedly showed him. “He’s a very genius computer guy,” Blixseth said of Montgomery. “What they did is, they were actually working for the CIA. And they mask it as — I’m sure you’ll remember this — the contracts with the CIA, of which I had many copies, said that they were decoding Al-Jazeera television, said that there was broadcast embedded, remember that? Owned by Gore? Al Gore’s got part of it now. But it was all bullshit. That was bullshit. That was a front by the CIA. And this guy [Montgomery] worked for Brennan and Clapper. Those were the two guys running it,” Timothy Blixseth told Arpaio and Zullo on the tape. “He started out in 2004 with another partner in Reno, Nevada, called eTreppid. They collected about $40 million from the CIA. Top security clearance. All kinds of letters…In 2006 they started a new company that [my ex-wife] owns, and they started doing the same business for the government. What it really turns out they were doing is they were hacking into all of America. Big League Politics called the listed number for eTreppid Technologies, but we were told that Montgomery no longer works there. “That company closed down years ago, sir,” a representative said of eTreppid Technologies. When asked what the company is called now, the representative said, “I’m sorry, I can’t discuss any more with you.” Blixseth claimed in his conversation with Zullo and Arpaio that Brennan and Clapper were running the operation. “Everything they said they didn’t do, that Brennan said recently, mainly Clapper. It’s all bullshit. And I��ve got it right here,” Blixseth said. On the explosive tapes, Blixseth walks Arpaio and Zullo through the details of the program on a computer screen. At one point, the three begin pulling up specific names of targeted individuals. “You know who that guy is? That’s the head of the FISA court they hacked into, Reggie Walton,” Blixseth tells the investigators. “John Roberts, the chief justice of the Supreme Court, was hacked,” Blixseth tells Arpaio and Zullo. Insiders have always been skeptical of Roberts’ motives for siding with President Obama on Obamacare. On August 4, 2005, Matt Drudge reported: “The NEW YORK TIMES is looking into the adoption records of the children of Supreme Court Nominee John G. Roberts, the DRUDGE REPORT has learned. The TIMES has investigative reporter Glen Justice hot on the case to investigate the status of adoption records of Judge Roberts’ two young children, Josie age 5 and Jack age 4, a top source reveals. Judge Roberts and his wife Jane adopted the children when they each were infants. Both children were adopted from Latin America. A TIMES insider claims the look into the adoption papers are part of the paper’s “standard background check.” Bill Borders, NYT senior editor, explains: “Our reporters made initial inquiries about the adoptions, as they did about many other aspects of his background. They did so with great care, understanding the sensitivity of the issue.” OBAMA Kept The Scheme Going Overseas House lawmakers are zeroing in on a meeting that German chancellor Angela Merkel held with President Obama at a key moment as one of the FISA warrants against Trump was set to expire. Lawmakers are aware of the role of foreign governments in collaborating with U.S. intelligence agencies in the Trump investigation as recently as 2017. Germany provided information beginning in 2015 to aide British spies and the Obama administration in compiling the Christopher Steele “dossier.” Obama had been called out by the Drudge Report for visiting foreign leaders in Europe in the spring of 2017 right before President Trump visited those leaders in Europe. It turns out that one of those Obama meetings is now under scrutiny on Capitol Hill. Deputy attorney general Rod Rosenstein gave a redacted document to Rep. Devin Nunes, showing two major redactions about the creation of the Trump “Dossier” and the launch of FISA warrants and Robert Mueller’s investigation during the 2016 campaign. The redactions were: “the name of a country and the name of a foreign agent who supplied information.” Now we know: the country is Germany and the foreign agent was either Angela Merkel or someone who worked for Angela Merkel in foreign intelligence. The redacted sections will be referencing one of the European countries and agents that share SIGINT (signal intelligence) to US Intelligence,” says Chuck Marler, a longtime agent of the FBI Special Surveillance Group under Robert Mueller, who is an official whistleblower in this case. SIGINT countries were involved in sharing information that helped the Christopher Steele dossier to come together. The Guardian reported in an amazingly under-covered article: “Over the next six months, until summer 2016, a number of western agencies shared further information on contacts between Trump’s inner circle and Russians, sources said. The European countries that passed on electronic intelligence – known as sigint – included Germany, Estonia and Poland. Australia, a member of the “Five Eyes” spying alliance that also includes the US, UK, Canada and New Zealand, also relayed material, one source said.” So Germany helped build the dossier. When does Merkel re-emerge in this picture? “Fast forward to April/May 2017, roughly the same time the fourth and final FISA warrant was running out (because the Carter Page story was determined false). Rosenstein and McCabe were in desperate need of renewed help from intelligence to keep the Russian Collusion narrative alive,” Marler reports. “Well they weren’t going to get help from the CIA because Pompeo was now CIA Director and wouldn’t help with a faux collusion narrative. In comes Obama to the rescue. He meets with Merkel in private (the US no longer monitored her communications because of the previous mishap) to beg for some more Sigint information to keep the collusion narrative alive. Conveniently he meets her hours prior to Trump’s meeting and his stay in her heavily monitored territory.” Here’s an article from The Independent describing how President Trump visited Brussels the same day Angela Merkel met with Obama in Berlin: “Barack Obama is to visit German Chancellor Angela Merkel in Berlin on his first trip to Europe since leaving office. The former US President will travel to Germany for the launch of a summer of special events to mark the 500th anniversary of the Protestant church. He will arrive in Germany on the same day as his successor Donald Trump is due in Brussels for a meeting with other NATO leaders – the first scheduled foreign visit for the President since taking office. Mr Obama is due to give a speech in the German capital and take part in a discussion on democracy with Ms Merkel, who he once called his “closest ally.'”